"You're cold," Butterfly mumbled something vague in response to this, that Daemon couldn't quite hear. "Hmm?" He questioned, the female turning over, still half asleep.

"I ... left the window open ... " The male sighed at her response.

"Why?" Though he already though her knew the answer.

"You ... you were getting ... too warm ... " She finished her sentence with a yawn, causing the male to sigh again. It was odd, but he had never known her to be like this. Very often, she was selfish, she would have told him to go sleep outside if he was so warm. He didn't dislike the change, but it unnerved him slightly.

"You don't usually like people, do you Butterfly?" His voice was strangely soft, and although he knew she hadn't loved anyone but him, he was not so sure on the subject of her 'liking' them. Trusting, maybe ... using them to get what she wanted, too, but never forming close bonds with anyone. Perhaps there was too much of a chance that she eventually might have to kill them.

"Not really ... " She muttered, before falling back to sleep. The male felt an urge to stroke her hair.

Moments later, however, she had sat up, her naked chest exposed, and nipples hard from the cold. Taken aback for only a moment, Daemon laughed at the motion, putting his arm around her shoulders and pulling her to him. She felt her cold body warm up slightly at this gesture.

"What are we actually 'sposed to do here?" She questioned suddenly, and felt Daemon shrug. So, he didn't know either. They were simply running away, to be together ... but they had no means of making money, no clients, no bounties to hunt? her face turned towards him, a strangely angered expression upon it, the female demanding to know why they were here, for the time being. "Why did you bring me here?" The male sighed again.

"There'll be some kills somewhere, a place like this, wanted posters'll be up everywhere. We're better off here ... " Before he could finish, however, Butterfly let out an almost derisive noise.

"You keep saying that but we got no money, no nothing. I thought ... " Her expression softened and she dropped her head into her hands, bringing her knees to her nude chest and curling up. "I thought we could have what we used to ... " She sighed, not daring to turn the male away as he embraced her. Something about that embrace warmed her through, making her feel as though there was no need to worry, not really. It was strange how he always reassured her in this way, even though he did not seem to have a plan himself. Were they just going to go out and kill whoever there was to kill? It certainly see--

"Get outta the fucking bed, now." It wasn't Daemon's voice that spoke, and looking up, Butterfly noticed that he had sprung to his feet, as well - she wondered why she was so cold all of a sudden. She pulled the sheets up to her chest, also noting that Daemon had grabbed the only gun ... apparently, he'd left it on the spindly table next to the bed. Whoever had just burst through the door of their room didn't seem to care that both of them were naked - he was holding something that looked like a sack of money (probably a bank robbery, in that case), and Butterfly could hear the sounds of more people clattering up the stairs; the law, or his accomplices she did not know, but her eyes flickered almost immediately to the gun he was pointing at Daemon's chest. It was upon impulse, not wanting Daemon to get shot that she did it. Dropping the sheet from her naked form, she rose onto her knees, her legs apart slightly so that she could access herself. Her breasts were fully exposed, nipples still hard, and she grinned - Daemon had looked back in surprise, her expression served to reassure him.

"Hey, you ... " She smirked, one of her hands slowly travelling down her body - it satisfied her much more to see her boyfriend hard than knowing she was distracting the robber. She entered herself, twisting her face into a look of pleasure and feeling how wet she was ... withdrawing her fingers only as she heard a gunshot, and looked to see the robber on the floor. She should have already known he was dead by the warm weight that dropped down onto the bed next to her - Daemon was licking at her wet fingers.

"Nice ... " He whispered, not seeming to care that his girlfriend had just exposed herself to another man. The fact that he had not been shot seemed to be enough of a consolation in that respect. "And you got me pretty turned on, too ... " He whispered, finishing with her fingers and moving up slowly to lick at her hard nipples. She gasped at the warmth of his mouth, allowing him to rub his tongue against her, much like he had done before. It was with a smirk she realised she needed to repay him for that. She pulled her nipple from his mouth, causing a momentary look of confusion to surface on his face, even more so as she climbed on top of him, her head already level with his stomach.

"I can see that ... " She murmured, her lips pressed against him member as she did this, the female beginning to stroke her tongue along it, feeling him shiver beneath her. She didn't really know what she was doing, but somehow ... instinct told her what she should do. Gently, she continued to lick, enjoying the sensation that him shivering beneath her gave. She could taste him, too; she had only ever tasted women before, this was quite different, yet she didn't dislike it. She moved her tongue upwards, allowing it to play with his head for a time, smirking as she heard him gasp ... she wouldn't start just yet. Instead, she licked around his head, her eyes flicking upwards every so often, just to see his face ... she certainly liked his expression. She continued to stare as her lips closed around him, the female moving her mouth gently down the shaft. His hands moved softly through her hair, every time she brought her head back, moving back with it - it was a lot easier than she had first thought. Every time she reached the tip, she would lick it again with her tongue, feeling him shudder as she did. The feeling pleased her.

"You're ... not doing too bad ... first-timer." Daemon grinned, though his tone was not nearly as even as it had been when he had been thrusting into her. She smirked again, speeding up a little this time, wondering how it would affect his reactions - it seemed to quite well. For a few moments, her mind paused to wonder if she was enjoying this almost as much as he was ... it certainly seemed so. Without even having to touch herself, she could feel how wet she was getting - hearing his groans increase only added to it. Her tongue played in time with her mouth as, at last, she felt her boyfriend's muscles tense, not entirely prepared for what came next, though she should have been.

"You're meant to swallow, you know." He was still grinning. Obediently, Butterfly swallowed, blinking a little - she had forgotten that males were different from females in that respect, and sat there for a moment, feeling his eyes upon her breasts, before noticing as they moved down a little. It wasn't as though he was going to enter her now, though that did not stop him from moving forwards, pressing his fingers into her again as if anticipating just how wet she was. She moaned, feeling his lips meet her neck - perhaps her was avoiding her mouth for the time being. As she began to buck her hips, the familiar pounding of footsteps met their ears, and Butterfly turned towards the door, Daemon's fingers still inside her.

"Dead. You shot him?" The voice was authoritative as it addressed Daemon, the man wincing a little as he saw what he had walked in on.

"Mmhmm." He mumbled against Butterfly's neck, causing the woman to giggle. The blonde female saw that the man who had just entered the room was now attempting to drag the body out, not wanting to disturb them even more it seemed ... or simply too embarrassed to say anything else. Another man, dressed in a very similar way to the first (they seemed to be members of some kind of investigation team - cops, perhaps) immediately joined his comrade, attempting to heave the body out of the room.

"Carry on, carry on ... " The first man muttered - they were not very efficient, it seemed. As Daemon began to move his fingers again, Butterfly stopped him, shaking her head.

"Is that what we're going to do?" She asked, causing Daemon to pull his lips away from her neck. He looked into her eyes, part of his gaze hungry, but the rest ... the rest of it was understanding. He tilted his head a little, maybe to confirm her question, though went on to speak.

"We could ... but ... we don't get paid for it, now, do we?" Butterfly shook her head, obedient as a dog, or a small child - she wasn't really sure which. "We'll find something, don't worry. Go shower, we might as well stair looking now," A questioning look crossed Butterfly's face, and she raised her eyebrows. He'd just looked at her so hungrily ... why was he now telling her to go? Could he really wait until later? "If it'll stop you worrying, we'll get it done now - night time can be so much more erotic, don't ya think?" His face contorted into another smirk as he answered her non-verbal question. Rising from the bed, Butterfly nodded again, taking her time to move as she felt his eyes on her behind.

It had been a while since she had felt the warm water of a shower wash over her, and so Butterfly found herself sighing happily. Normally, she might have wanted to share this with Daemon, but right now, the water was bliss. Her hand brushed over her nether regions as she thought. Somehow, she had left behind the sexuality she knew, for something much different - she was not used to being tied to a single person, not that it was really that big a deal to her. The sex was good, now, that was a help, and suddenly ... Daemon did not only seem like her lover, but also her best friend. Chemistry was a strange thing. She also stopped to consider just how much she had changed ... again. It was something that kept occurring to her, and she was not entirely sure if it was a good or a bad thing. She had entirely lost her half-hardened exterior, honed, of course, from abandonment; she had become a different person, but she was not sure who she liked more. Daemon liked this Butterfly, though. He liked her because she was more accepting than the bratty thirteen-year-old he had once dated, He liked her because they could talk and not argue. She had not really killed anyone in so long ... she didn't really miss it, either.

You're becoming a girl. You never used to be a woman.

"So what if I am?" Butterfly muttered to herself, hot water dripping into her mouth as she opened it. "I'm a girl ... I'm a woman ... I just wanted to believe I was strong." She sighed to herself, not really realising how loud her voice was, running two soap-covered hands through her hair as she heard the door open.

"You okay?" She should have known Daemon couldn't keep out of there for long. Of course, she had no idea of the reasoning behind his entry. "You were talking to yourself ... "

"I was?" Butterfly responded, almost airily, and most unlike herself. It was obvious from her tone that she was putting on a serene front, she was so annoyed at the little voice that spoke inside her head.

"Yeah, what was going on?" There was a recognisable tone of urgency in his voice again. Butterfly didn't really know what the call for it was, she was sure she had been inaudible over the noise of the shower. She shook her head, before peering round the side of the curtain, smiling at Daemon, and that clueless look upon his face. There was nothing for him to worry about.

"I'm fine." She responded, still smiling, before washing the soap from her hair, perhaps inadvertently ignoring Daemon as he stood there, not quite understanding why she had called out, nor why she was acting so strangely about it.

"You're sure you're fine?" He asked, once again, though he didn't really expect to get a real answer.

"I'm fine." Butterfly repeated, as the water stopped, stepping out of the shower. In spite of the slight concern in his head, Daemon had to admit that he found the sight of her standing there, completely nude and dripping with water quite arising. He quickly handed her a towel to stop himself from dropping his pants. Butterfly smiled at him again, but he had to admit that he found the expression strange. She didn't normally smile like that ... did she? He followed her from the room, looking out of the window as she pulled on her clothing, trying to ignore the unnerving silence that had occurred, until the female spoke again.

"You like me like this, don't you?" The question caught him completely off guard.

"I like you a lot better without the clothes ... but yeah, I like you like this. Why?" He tried to transform his face into a grin, though he wondered a little about the woman behind him. She had been fine a few hours ago ... was she noticing changes within herself, too? He folded his arms, looking at her carefully, and wondering if she would soon lose all her spirit. "I ... haven't done this to you, have I?" He questioned, pressing his fingers to her cheek and bringing her face up to look into his. She looked away.

"No ... I was just wondering ... " She murmured, before moving swiftly, her hands on her hips, a grin (albeit a rather forced one) on her face. "So, to see the rest of the city?" She smiled, taking his hand and pulling him with force out of the door, not noticing the blood that had been left on the carpet. She was so used to getting in and out of elevators by now that it came as second nature to her, and before long, she was pulling Daemon after her, out of the door ... stopping dead as she remembered that she had no idea where they were going.

"Uh ... " She looked round, as if asking Daemon for directions, but he was still looking at her strangely. He wondered what had brought her strange behaviour on. In any case, it was something she was trying to cover up, but even if she thought it didn't matter to him, it did. He was sure she knew that he preferred her, now, to the brat he had been with thirteen years ago. Yet ... why had she asked him that? Did she think she was losing her touch, did she think that she was growing weak? It was this that caused him to take her hands, and force her to look into her eyes ... he wouldn't let her get away this time.

"You're the strongest woman I know, okay, Butterfly? That was what you wanted to hear, right?" For once, her somewhat jovial gaze faltered. She looked back at him with a certain fierceness that he had seen only when they had been arguing.

"No. I wanted to know that you still like me like this. But that's good enough." Her voice was quieter as she told him this. Amidst the fire, he could see understanding, and perhaps something that bordered on yearning, too. She had desperately wanted him to let her know, but still wondered why it had happened now, of all times. Before he could pursue the thought, Butterfly was smiling back at him again, though her expression faltered a little as she made to walk.

"Umm ... where are we going?" Daemon grinned at her. She didn't seem to be able to stay down for long, and soon, he was walking in front of her, holding onto her wrist tightly, leading her through ally ways, and occasionally into dead-ends - it was on these occasions that they turned around abruptly and sped off in the opposite direction. He didn't seem to know where they were going, either. after a while, Butterfly stopped, pouting.

"Do you even know what we're doing? I thought you said we'd find something to do?" She sighed, looking sceptically at the male. Her eyes then scanned the rest of the city -they were extremely far away from their hotel room, but also from any form of shops, or ... well, any form of life really. The only people she could see around were hobos, some of them staring quite intently at her - no doubt due to the leathers she was wearing. she did not really feel that she would be able to strike up an interesting conversation with any of them.

"It's not long ... " Daemon sighed back at her, pulling her along, though she moved very slowly, pouting like a small child. He could tell she was stubbornly digging her heels into the ground, and grinned back at her, remembering ... she had not rid herself of that stubborn streak, she had merely tried to. Still, he knew he had enough force to pull her along, and tugging gently at first, led her towards one of the grey buildings - they seemed to increase in darkness as they neared the centre of the city. Butterfly found this a little odd. She had full expected there to be a great deal of life, and open stores, nearer to the city centre, but there were scarcely any people around. She had to wonder why. She was unable to stare for long, however, as Daemon dragger her down a flight of stairs, and in through a wooden door - another bar. She seemed to spend an awful lot of time in bars.

"See? I told you we wouldn't be long." Butterfly stared around, throwing less-than-pleasant glances at the people leering at her. Surely they could see Daemon was holding tightly onto her? She sighed, following her boyfriend to a nearby table, and seating herself opposite him still staring around at the crowds - she couldn't help but notice the similar fashion in which they all dressed. It was quite similar to the way in which she and Daemon were clad, too.

"This is the perfect place for people like us," The male explained, making sure to keep his voice low, though Butterfly doubted that anyone would have been able to hear them. There was far too much noise - so much that Butterfly could barely hear Daemon as he spoke. "Hunters, outlaws, people who don't fit in with the gutless cowards--" She half wondered how he knew all this, but was cut off from her thoughts as a male approached them. Pale-faced and with dirty-blonde hair, he looked almost scared of Daemon as he approached them, but tried to hide it as best as he could. As he got closer, Butterfly could see a greyish tinge to his skin, and his hair looked as though it had not been washed for quite some time. Though his face was young, there was something worn about it -namely because of the dark circles that hung under his eyes. In spite of all this, his face broke into a wide smile as he approached their table.

"Daemon." He smiled at the dark haired male.

"Damion." Butterfly's boyfriend smiled back. Butterfly blinked, hoping that the similar names were nothing more than a coincidence. The two of them seemed to know each other from somewhere, though it was not altogether that strange; there had been those years in between when she and Daemon had seen nothing of each other, of course he must have known someone here to ... actually come here. She watched the two men as they talked, the one known as Damion taking a seat at the table, and looking at them both.

"It's been a while, Daemon. Too long, really," He started, and Butterfly tried to disguise the look of confusion on her face, replacing it with one of mock-curiosity. "I guess this is her?" He jerked his head in Butterfly's direction, though he didn't really seem to acknowledge her. Daemon nodded as a response, but the man with the dirty-blonde hair kept on talking. "It's different here now ... " And before he could say anything else, Daemon cut across him.

"It doesn't look that different." His eyebrows were raised, as if suspecting Damion of going for the shock factor.

"But it is. It's different ... notice how few people there are around now?" daemon nodded again ... and Butterfly considered - did he know why there were so few people in the streets, now? Or did this guy - Damion - did he know?

"I knew it was bad, but it's gotten worse? He's gotten faster, or found a new was to do it or something?" Once again, the tone or urgency in Daemon's voice was present, and Butterfly wondered about it, still silent as the two men talked. A half-smirk flitted across Damion's face, but if anyone was to blink, they would have missed it.

"Not at all. He's dead." If Butterfly had thought this would have caused all-round relief, it did not. Quite the contrary, she watched her boyfriend's eyes widen, his tone increasing in its urgency.

"Dead?" Daemon's voice was almost a whisper, and for a second, it scared Butterfly to hear him talking in that way. The shock ... it was something she had never heard before. "How can he be dead? It was supposed to be impossible." Damion shook his head at this statement.

"Apparently, it wasn't. Someone wanted him dead bad enough, and you know, I can't blame anyone that did. Anyways ... whoever it was got what they wanted, but what we don't know is whether they're with us ... or them." By this point, Butterfly had had to bury her head in her arms on the table. She was so confused to amount of acting and faking expressions could disguise it. She heard Daemon speak, though did her best not to pay any attention to whatever it was he was saying- she was far too confused by everything, now.

"Let's hope it's the former. And if it's the latter ... then we're fucked," The urgency and shock in his voice now mingled with grim despair as he leaned over the table, running a hand through the female's hair. "C'mon. We'll be staying here tonight." He murmured, causing Butterfly to look up from her arms, a little disorientated. He had obviously mistaken her confusion for exhaustion. Daemon inclined his head towards Damion as the two of them stood, Butterfly shooting him a small smile before following her boyfriend; the bartended looked extremely ruffled that they had not stopped to order any drinks. The stairway was dark, and she could not help but be reminded of the time that Franz had led her up a similar one ... she knew that the chain of events that had followed that would not follow now. She knew this because, even if Daemon had that in mind, she would willingly give into him, now. Before, it might have been a chore, but this was no longer the case, and so the girl followed obediently, stripping down almost as soon as they got to the room - still, she had no bedclothes (nether of them did) but she never really made use of them anyway. She turned to look at the male.

"Who were you talking about?" She questioned, recalling that they had not mentioned a name of any kind. He looked at her, sharply. apparently, this was not the kind of subject her particularly wanted to discuss with her. He gazed at her, hoping that she would relent, but to no avail - her look was as questioning as ever, the female holding her expression as she waited for his response. His voice was heavy as he sighed, looking into her eyes.

"He was ... famous, I guess you'd say. A killer, famous for it, everyone was scared, of course ... " He ran a hand through his dark hair as he spoke, though continually maintained eye contact with the girl, trying to read the expression on her face ... it was impossible. "The fact that someone managed to kill him ... well, a lot of people tried, and all of them failed, which ... " He trailed, as he watched her jerk out of some kind of trance, opening her mouth to speak.

"Makes that person more dangerous. I see." She hung her head at this realisation. She moved only slightly as Daemon sat next to her on the bed, holding her in his arms. Butterfly felt herself shiver as he pressed his lips to her forehead, and looked at him, looked into his face - there was a certain sadness in his eyes.

"I'm sorry." She wasn't prepared for that.

"What for?" Because, after all, he had nothing to be sorry for.

"For bringing you here. I thought we'd faced this before, I had no idea ... " He shook a little, and Butterfly ran her hand soothingly along his chest, sighing softly. The news had obviously shocked him. This was what they were meant to do, then? They had to become a part of what she guessed was a case, to solve this ... to prevent more people from getting killed? It seemed an odd job for two bounty hunters (although she supposed that now, they were ex-bounty hunters) to do ... then again, it was no longer Daemon that needed to send souls to Hell.

"It's okay. We'll be okay ... all of us." She felt him jolt, though continued to hold him tightly, both of them sitting there like it was the last night of the world. It was as she said this that Butterfly wondered ... they were neither dead, nor alive, but would they be able to create life? Part of her hoped it was so, but part of her was scared at the very prospect of it. She expected they could reproduce ... she expected this because the events a few nights ago had made it so. They were closer than ever, now; and not only because soon, Hell would seem like Heaven compared to this place.